Free Web NovelChapter 76: Chapter 76 The Wrong Timing
Christina’s POV
Hudson’s jaw clenched so hard I thought he might crack a tooth.
One of his hands twitched against my hip, like he was fighting his instinct to pull me closer while pretending to be in control.
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Neither of us blinked.
It was a standoff where the only weapons were unspoken tension and sexual frustration.
The lights seemed dimmer than before. Had they always been that low? His fancy smart home system probably sensed the hormones in the air and automatically adjusted for "potential hookup."
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as my chest pressed against his. His sculpted features looked even more perfect in the soft glow, and I had to physically restrain myself from ripping his shirt open. Those buttons were hanging on for dear life anyway.
We both stayed silent, waiting for the other to make the first move. Classic pride standoff.
"He’s waiting for you to break first," Akira whispered in my mind.
"Or maybe he’s just enjoying watching me squirm," I shot back.
His eyes dropped to my lips and stayed there. The intensity of his gaze made my skin tingle.I could feel heat pooling between my legs as I unconsciously shifted, straddling him more intimately.
Oh god. Was that...? Yes, it definitely was. Hudson was getting hard beneath me, and my body was responding in ways that weren’t covered in our contract.
I swallowed hard. If he was trying to seduce me into doing something not included in our agreement, that wasn’t my fault, right? I was just responding to stimuli. Basic biology.
Fine. I cracked first.
I closed my eyes and leaned in, my lips just inches from his, our breath mingling in the narrow space between us—
His phone rang.
I jerked backward.
Sat up straight. "Um, your phone."
He exhaled like he wanted to murder whoever was calling. "Ignore it."
It rang again.
And again.
He jabbed at the screen to hang up, but the caller was persistent as hell.
The call returned immediately.
I caught the name on the screen—Cassian Langford.
"You should probably answer that," I muttered, sliding off his lap to the opposite end of the sofa. "If he’s calling this late, must be important."
I crossed my legs and grabbed a throw pillow, hoping it might absorb some of the residual heat from my body.
It didn’t.
Hudson looked murderous as he hit answer. "This better be life-threatening or I’m blocking your number permanently."
His expression shifted from rage to concern faster than I could blink.
"Got it. On my way now."
Without even ending the call properly, he was already grabbing his coat and heading for the door.
"Something urgent came up. Need to handle it. Might not be back tonight."
"Right. Go. Be careful." I stood up too quickly, smacked my knee on the coffee table, and pretended it didn’t happen.
His footsteps faded down the hallway before I could say anything else.
Whatever Cassian said must’ve been serious. Hudson’s face told me this wasn’t about some minor business hiccup or administrative crisis. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
After his car disappeared down the driveway, I closed the door and pressed my burning cheek against the cool wood. "Talk about perfect timing."
Cassian’s call couldn’t have come at a better moment.
Kissing Hudson should have been simple in theory. Just press lips together, right?
But my sweaty palms, racing heart, and the horrifying realization that I might actually be developing feelings told a different story.
If we hadn’t been interrupted, Hudson would’ve discovered I’m probably the world’s worst kisser when genuinely attracted to someone.
***
The next day, I barricaded myself in the study, pretending to focus on jewelry designs while checking my phone every thirty seconds.
Hudson hadn’t come home last night.
I finally texted him at lunch.
No response.
By 5 PM, still nothing.
Either the apocalypse had started or he was buried in some crisis.
Probably both.
Then my screen lit up.
[I’m fine. Dinner tonight. Want you to meet someone. Picking you up in an hour.]
I replied, [Cool.]
Then I sprinted to my bedroom like I was being chased.
I wasted twenty minutes staring into the wardrobe, torn between "corporate trophy wife" and "don’t-mess-with-me elegance." The closet contained more clothes than I’d owned in my entire life.
I selected a high-neck column dress—long, sleek, sophisticated, and just tight enough to make conversation difficult for anyone looking at me.
The kind of outfit that says, "I’m intelligent, but I’m also fully aware of how great my ass looks."
Hair pulled back in a sleek twist, makeup subtle but deliberate, I assessed myself in the mirror and nodded.
I wouldn’t embarrass Hudson.
Probably.
At exactly six-thirty, a black Maybach arrived.
Hudson was waiting in the back when the driver opened my door.
I slid in, smoothed my dress over my thighs, and caught him staring.
His eyes traveled down my body, unashamed and thorough.
Lingering.
Assessing.
I recognized that look.
That was his "calculating how quickly this dress could come off" expression.
His jaw twitched as he forced himself to look at my face again.
"You look... nice tonight," he said, voice slightly rough.
I smiled as if I hadn’t noticed him practically combusting across from me.
I tilted my head just enough to show off the diamond earrings. "Wore the ones you gave me. Never properly thanked you for them. The craftsmanship is beautiful."
"You’re welcome." His voice dropped lower. "They’re perfect on you."
I wanted to return the compliment, but what could I possibly say?
That he looked good?
Obviously.
His suit fit like it was genetically engineered specifically for his body.
His face didn’t need accessories to highlight its features—it already looked sculpted by Renaissance masters.
So I went with, "You look tired. Work issue?"
Immediately regretted it.
Smooth conversationalist, Christina. Really nailing it.
He nodded. "Rebel activity in the Red Sea. Had to reroute some ships." Then added, "It’s handled now."
That effectively killed our husband-wife small talk.
The car stopped outside one of those exclusive restaurants that pretends to be understated while charging obscene prices for microscopic portions.
Hudson took my hand and led me upstairs.
"Who are we meeting?" I asked. "Business associate? Family member?"
"You’ll see."
Not ominous at all. freёwebnovel.com
I took a deep breath and gave myself the standard pep talk.
Everything’s fine.
Smile, nod, play the perfect partner.
Looking gorgeous is the best defense strategy.
Then Hudson opened the door.
I stopped mid-step.
Sitting in the booth, legs elegantly crossed, was none other than Octavia Grey.
